


If I ever said I'm never scared

by veivei



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, Mind Games, Present Tense, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veivei/pseuds/veivei
Summary: “Police uses freelance informants sometimes too, you know. The pay is poor but the one they managed to attract to help them put this case together was quite good, if I do say so myself.”“You’re telling a yakuza you worked for the police,” Shiki points out in a neutral voice.“Am I?” Izaya smiles.





	If I ever said I'm never scared

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this comment to an old fic of mine on the DRRR Kink Meme:  
> http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/2231.html?thread=4706999#t4706999
> 
> Suggest things to me, sure, I may write you a story 7 years later. I'm pathetic like that.

“So? Can I go now?” Izaya asks to make sure, putting his belongings back into his pockets. He looks into the plastic container once it is empty, expecting something more to be in there. “What about the knife?”

“You’re not getting back a knife that was used to stab a police officer. Regardless of the case being dropped or whoever you happen to be,” the policeman says and takes the container away. “Sign here and get lost.” He pushes a form toward Izaya.

“Is that a way to treat an innocent citizen?” Izaya sighs, leaning down to sign the papers.

“You’re not innocent. You just have friends in high places.”

“Ah, shall I say hello for you?” Izaya smiles.

“But one day, hopefully, you will go under along with all of that organization.” 

“Since when are you so great at eradicating organized crime? No, I don’t think so. See you around, I guess.” He waves goodbye and walks away.

He exits the police station undisturbed. A black sedan with tinted windows is waiting for him outside. He gets in the back and the car drives away.

\---

“Solicitation of battery and aggravated assault. Assault with a weapon. Assault with intent to resist arrest. Carrying illegal weapons. Property damage. Handling stolen goods. Blackmail. Hacking. False pretenses. Frameup. False testimony...“ Izaya reads on in a monotone voice from the copy of the police papers in his hands, lying on his back in Shiki’s lap.

“Does that make you proud?” Shiki asks, his eyes scanning rows of numbers on a sheet of paper he’s holding while his other hand is stroking Izaya's hair.

“That is months of police work,” Izaya points out. “It’s admirable.”

“It also amounted to nothing.”

“It was your choice not to let me go to prison, Shiki-san.”

“Yes,” Shiki admits and puts away the sheet of paper.

He looks at Izaya.

“You can’t afford to lose a great informant like me, right?” Izaya asks with a self-assured smile.

Shiki isn’t sure if he’s serious or joking.

“I can,” he says. “I would have taken over your network, put someone else at the helm and it would have been fine. There are many more talented men around than you think. You would have had to agree in exchange for some basic protection once in prison or it would have been over for you.”

Izaya’s eyes darken.

“But the thing is: you’re a pretty little thing.” Shiki’s hand twines itself in Izaya’s hair possessively and pulls him up for a kiss. “Nothing I could do or say would have stopped the boys in prison from having their way with you.”

They kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside Izaya’s mouth, his hands sneaking under Izaya’s shirt on his stomach, taking hold of his jutting out hip bones

“Pretty little thing?” Izaya asks incredulously. Their lips are still so close they’re breathing the same air. “Honestly, I thought I’d outgrown that phase ages ago.”

“No, you haven’t,” Shiki whispers. “Not yet.”

“You’re funny,” Izaya snorts.

“But you will outgrow it one day,” Shiki says, his fingers lingering over the scar on Izaya’s stomach.

“And?” 

“And it will mean you’re no longer a little boy and can take care of yourself on your own,” Shiki says, pushing Izaya down onto the couch. “And you will have to quiet down because with the kinds of games you've been playing, you're bound to end up in prison or dead without me there to take care of whatever mess you end up in."

“I think you’re overestimating your influence over my life there, Shiki-san.” Dark red eyes look up at Shiki challengingly even as Izaya’s legs wrap around him.

“Am I?”

“I’m here because I like you, not because I need you,” Izaya declares, drawing a sharp breath when Shiki’s fingers graze his nipple under his shirt. “But it wouldn’t feel good for you if you couldn’t show off a bit. That’s why I let you. Like, do we honestly need that gun here?” Izaya asks. The weight in the inside pocket of Shiki’s jacket is pressed between them. “And the circumstances that make it possible for you to save me. Do these just present themselves or does it take some work? Police uses freelance informants sometimes too, you know. The pay is shitty but the one they managed to attract to help them put this case together was quite good, if I do say so myself.”

“You’re telling a yakuza you worked for the police,” Shiki points out in a neutral voice.

“Am I?” Izaya smiles. “What’s the punishment for that in your ranks? Bullet to the head, right? Is that why you need that gun when we meet? And pretty little thing, seriously? In your dreams, Shiki,” he hisses.

“You’re cute when you’re upset,” Shiki says, leaning down to kiss Izaya’s neck.

“You realize you’re saying the same thing over and over again?” Izaya sighs.

“Yes,” Shiki admits.

“What makes you so full of yourself today? Where’s the catch?” 

Shiki smiles a barely there smile.

“Fuck.” Izaya seemingly realizes something, pushes Shiki off him and sits up. He reaches for the police papers he dropped to the floor before.

“Is there something wrong?” Shiki asks with mild interest. He sits comfortably and lights up a cigarette.

“Where’s my knife?” Izaya asks, looking through the papers.

“Am I the informant here?"

“Tell me if you have it.”

“Get naked.”

“Shiki…”

“Yes?” Shiki picks up his own sheet of paper with rows of numbers and occupies himself with it.

“Tell me if you have it first, otherwise it’s a waste of my time.” 

“But aren’t you here because you like me?” Shiki asks, vaguely amused. “How come it’s a waste of your time? You can call the police from here to check if they have it through your connections. I won’t mind.”

Izaya gets up and starts undressing instead. Shiki glances at him a few times from over his papers without particular interest. Once naked, he stands there, apparently willing himself not to get hard, succeeding about halfway, and waits.

“Here.” Shiki takes out his phone and searches through the camera roll. “Is that the one?” He shows Izaya a photo of a folding knife sealed in a plastic bag with police inscriptions. “Sure looks familiar to me.”

“Give it back to me,” Izaya says.

“That wouldn’t be the wise thing to do. Granted, it’s not the only thing I could use to frame you if the need arose but the number of such things in our possession is sadly limited. It’s a joy to acquire even one. And also, look at you, a young man, naked in front of the person he likes and not even hard.“

“I’ll show you something,” Izaya offers.

“That sounds good.” 

Izaya reaches down for his discarded coat and takes his own phone out of the pocket. He shows Shiki a photo of a folding knife sealed in a plastic bag with police inscriptions.

“What you have is worthless anyway,” he says. “I won’t beg for it.”

“So, you exchanged the knife that the police had that had been the actual evidence for a different one,” Shiki figures. 

“Of course.”

“And you made me admit I wanted to have such a piece of evidence. Excellent. But you know what I have also learned? That you’re awfully cozy with the police. Is there a higher up there who has seen you naked, too?” 

“You know I don’t sell my personal information,” Izaya says off-handedly. “Jealous much, Shiki-san? But you should assume I don’t show up there in person. Otherwise, how would you explain my arrest? And after all, it was you I asked to make the police drop the case.”

“You also said you didn’t need me to. My head hurts when I think about the game you’re playing now. And I don’t see the point,” Shiki says. “Come here. I won’t call you pretty or cute. You’re terrible. And you’re scrawny and covered in scars. How come I haven’t noticed that before?” 

Izaya smiles before coming to him.

“And your face is so haughty it is almost unpleasant.” 

“Thank you.”

“And you’re a little shit that doesn’t know what loyalty means.”

Izaya seems genuinely pleased.

“You should be happy this is where I show up in the flesh,” Izaya says, settling in Shiki’s lap. “I guess I was always more attracted to the dark side of things.”

“The dark side of things is anywhere you go.”

Izaya laughs. 

“That was good. I’m hard now.”

They have sex like a married couple. It unfolds according to mutual expectations but it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before. 

Then Shiki lights up a cigarette and they’re back to their papers, Izaya still not wearing any clothes.

“Do you ever wonder about your other objects that you could use to frame me, Shiki-san?” Izaya asks when he's done reading. “Are these any good for their intended purpose?” 

“Do you honestly want to find out?” 

“But I will find out one day, won’t I?” Izaya looks at him, his expression unreadable. “Regardless of if I want to or not. It'll be that or the bullet. Unless Shizu-chan beats me to death first.”

“It’ll be nothing you yourself haven't chosen to happen,” Shiki observes.

“Will you miss me, though?”

“Maybe. But I’ll be glad that you’re gone.”


End file.
